


The mystery triangle

by GazingGazela



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GazingGazela/pseuds/GazingGazela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiles waiting for Moriartys move, Holmes and Watson have to face their fans and their brilliant imagination. Will the massive attack of fan-fiction stories mess up with their work and private lifes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The mystery triangle

They stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes. Their bodies stiff, unsure, fearful but yet exited and impatient. How could it be, that after all these years, it was just now that they realized what they truly felt? Were they blind? Or maybe they didn’t want to know. Really know.  
But something changed and now they were ready. John made the first step towards the middle of the room - one step closer to Sherlock. The mistake less, handsome consulting detective sighed and crossed the room. The ex-soldier was shocked, wanted to run to his love but…  
Suddenly, he felt Sherlock’s warmth, breath, the smell of his astonishing perfumes. His big hands grabbed him into an impatient hug, and then…

‘Sherlock! Another one! Come, you must read this!’ screamed John across the apartment ‘Where do they get all of these ideas?‘ He murmured the rest of the story, eyes popped out when he got to the part where Sherlock tears his trousers down and…

‘Oh, God! No, no, no!’ John dramatically started to close the website and robbed his hands as if it was supposed to wash off what “he” and “Sherlock” just did. Without thinking, he gazed on the carpet in the living room. He recalled the hot action, the bodies filled with desire.

‘I’m going to puke. ‘ He whispered to himself as he stood up and went to the kitchen.  
Whiles he was making coffee for himself, Sherlock entered with the absent face and I-don’t-give-a-…. look. John looked at him, waiting for any response, the smallest reaction. The tall man buttoned his white shirt, fixed the collar and looked at John completely not interested in the topic. The silence was slowly arousing; John started to make suggestive eye looks which determined Sherlock to speak at last.

‘Yees? ‘ He asked not really asking but just being polite, over polite in his state of mind, but what could he do, the guy wouldn’t just give him a rest.

‘What will we do about this? ‘John asked as calmly as he could.

‘With what?’ Holmes replied asking.

‘With the insane website stories!‘ Watson blew out. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘The internet’s pop culture has a life of its own and there’s nothing that we could do about it.’

‘Then maybe Mycroft? ‘ John asked.

‘Mycroft?‘ Sherlock repeated just to be sure of what he just heard.

‘Yes, Mycroft. Sherlock, we just have to stop it somehow. You remember the last case? The one in the bank…’

‘Yes, yes. The body of a prostitute in separate vaults…’ 

‘That one, yes. But do you recall what happened after we solved the case?’

‘Well… ‘ started Sherlock ‘ The usual. The “Thank you”, the “What could we do without you?”, the “Great job” and of course the “Maybe you’ll open an account.’

‘That’s so nice that you remember that, that’s just very, very nice. ‘John said nodding his head, becoming more and more angry.

‘But I’m sure you don’t know what the daughter of that banks director said, do you?’

‘Well, in fact I do.’

‘What?’ said John quite shocked with where the conversation has lead.

‘I know what that spoiled teenager said to you.’ Sherlock answered. He was getting tired of all this nonsense talk. Holmes started to count the seconds till the moment when Lestrade will call him, begging for his help and assistance.

‘So…? ‘John continued.

‘So…’

‘Sherlock.‘ Watson said calmly, saving his nerves and health ‘That girl asked us about our vacation in Venice. About something that never happened.’

‘Well, it happened.‘ Sherlock interrupted

‘What?!’

‘In the mind of a not-so-young house wife, living with her busy husband, three kids and a fat cat. Well, quite obese cat…’

‘I don’t care about any cat!’ John shouted again ‘Don’t you understand? People are accusing us of…’

He became silent. Watson didn’t want to say those words. He was afraid that if he says them out loud then… what, will they really have a meaning? Will they be true? Or is it just him being a bit secure, trying to stay on the same level as earlier and not messing things up. Things between him and…

Oh! After reading all those stories and listening to some narrative tales he even started to think like…

Like John Watson, a character from a tale where he meets the love of his life and they both are trying to face the world and all odds that are against them.

Jeez, he really should stop reading that useless crap. Meanwhile, Sherlock turned and head to the door.

‘Wait! ‘ hailed John ‘ We haven’t finish yet!’

‘So you want to talk about what happened in Venice in the dark hotel room, filed with lust and passion?’ Holmes just quote a fan fiction story.

‘He… read them’ said John to himself. 

Whiles sipping his colled coffee, he heard Sherlocks telephone ringing. It must be Lestrade with a new case.

‘Time to go, my little hedgehog.’ John spilled the coffee all over his shirt when he heard Sherlock’s voice. That line! It was from the last scene of that stupid story. But… but that meant that.

The door closed after Sherlock when John realized that Holmes must have read all 2000 pages of many hot, intense scenes about their copulation in some small hotel in Venice. 

How is he supposed to work with this guy after something like this?

 

The cab stopped few meters before a major crowd made of reporters, news agents photographers and random people who were trying to catch a glimpse of what was going around. Sherlock and John went out from the car and slowly approached to this massive humanized form of a strange creature. Suddenly, the monster caught their presence and started to attack them. Flashlights, high voices calling them to get some of their opinion about the case that they even didn’t know yet. This unknown thing had to be stopped by some policeman. At last, they passed under the police tape and entered into the middle of a crime scene.

Policeman and forensics were scattered all around a small water pond which was standing in the middle of a open-space between some office buildings. Holmes and Watson walked calmly towards Gregory Lastrade, ready to help him with new ideas.

‘Hmmm…’ murmurd Sherlock

‘What is it? ‘ asked John.

‘They’re watching us. And… they seem to be…’

‘Giggling? ‘ said Watson being a bit shocked with what he discovered. In fact, that might have been true, because his eyes grasped just a view of two young policemen hiding their happiness behind their big, male hands.

The ex-soldier shook his head. When he raised it up, he saw something which has just crawled out from his greatest nightmares.

‘Yeah. ‘ agreed Lastrade ‘ I had the same look on my face when I got here.’  
In the middle of a small pond, there were lying two bodies of young men – one blond and the other dark haired. They were approximately the same age, something around their early twenties. Holding each other hands, blood splashed all over their wet clothes. And although their faces were filled with peace, John just couldn’t stand to look at them. Just one aspect couldn’t allow him to maintain in one place. Pointing his finger towards the victims, he turned to Sherlock and said as calmly as he could.

‘They look like us.’

‘No, they don’t. You see the…’ Holmes started explaining.

‘I don’t care if their clothes are not bought in the same stores us ours, but you must admit that they did a pretty good job in trying to adapt to us.’

‘Indeed.’ said Lastrade before Holmes could react.

‘Thank you.’ Said Watson angrily.

‘All horses steady. ‘ started Sherlock ‘ There’s no need to get so emotion about this two. Especially that they are alive.’

‘What?!’ Watson almost screamed

‘That’s not possible, the doctor… ‘explained Lastrade but Sherlock interrupted as usual.

‘The doctor is just a big piece of dog poop if he didn’t notice that these two are just faking their death. Like two love birds, holding their hands, trying to face the world. Why did you bother me about such stuff? ‘ Holmes turned while Lastrade called some of his men to check the theory of the consulting detective, which of course was right.

‘I will give you a call when these two will give their statements, on the condition that you are curious, of course. ‘ Lastrade sent a joker smile towards Watson. This time, the doctor really hated the man. He turned and followed Sherlock.

‘Stupid fans ‘ murmured Sherlock.

‘What?’

‘Those two were recreating a scene from a fan-fiction novel’

A stroke of cold lightning came across Johns back.

 

The room was thick with silence. Holmes was sitting in his usual pose, hands together and fingers under his nose. Closed eyes were the sign of many thoughts going around his head. On one hand he was waiting for more information about those two stupid fans, which were playing around with drugs. Medical students and geeks at the same time – it wasn’t a good combination. He heard Johns steps, the man sat down at the desk, opened his laptop and started shredding the silence into pieces with his fingers taping on the keyboard. Sherlock didn’t even sigh, it would be just a waste of time.

Watson’s phone rang, so he picked it up. When the short conversation ended, John turned towards the consulting detective and spoke:

‘The jerks came clean about the hall case. They are in some kind of group recreating the fan-fiction stories. Oh, and they were upset that they were unconscious when we came.’  
Holmes didn’t even move. All was so obvious for him, even the question which John dropped in front of him.

‘Can’t you ask Mycroft to ban these absurd stories?’

‘They’re harmless’ Holmes said calmly 

‘Are they? Are they?! Gosh, Sherlock, we should be thinking about Moriarty, about what his planning… but in the meantime we have this horde of teenagers running around looking like us, playing some roles from stories that are absolutely unreal!’

‘Don’t you have something else to bother about?’

‘What?’

Holmes opened his eyes and looked at the friend. It took Watson few minutes to understand what he meant. Without any goodbye, John rushed to the front doors, jumped into the street and caught a cab. He was late to pick up his wife and child from the train station.  
In the meantime, the consulting detective stood up and went to the computer. There was an open site – Holmesfictionlovers.com. Sherlock scrolled through, found a list of top 10’s, clicked and saw the list of the most popular stories. Some were about difficult cases but mostly they were about some kind of bro-love between him and John. Holmes entered the blog which scored the first position. A dark page opened, with his and John’s photo on the top. Underneath there was a title – “The mystery triangle”. He started reading and suddenly, he finished the first chapter. 

The story was a bit unusual comparing to those which he came across recently. Of course, it had the gay-love influence, but at the same time, the author tried to succeed by creating a mystery atmosphere, demanding from character-Sherlock and character-John to solve strange cases and fight with some bad guys.   
After two hours, the consulting detective finished reading all 30 chapters that were post. To his surprise, he enjoyed reading them. He could use his deductive skills and as the plot went, he could find the killers also us his-character-Sherlock. This was a strange feeling. Usually, stories weren’t interesting for him because they were so obvious. But this time… 

He’s eyes caught the authors nick. “Sherlohn Holmtson”  
Holmes snorted.

 

John bumped into the house.

‘Mary!’- he shouted

‘Shhhhhh!!’- Marry came out from the living room – ‘She just fell asleep.’  
The wife hugged her long no seen husband, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then let him go, so he could take of his coat.

‘I’m so sorry! This day was so crazy!’

‘I know, I know, my wasn’t any less.’ she turned and went to the living room. John followed her.

The small, cozy room had a double, flower patterned sofa and a tea table in the middle, which was covered with some old newspapers and magazines.

‘So how was at the country side? Something has changed? ‘ he asked whiles sitting next to his wife. She came closer to cuddle.

‘Oh, you know. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were adorable as usual.’ she chuckled and smiled and John felt like the happiest man in the hall world.

‘Better tell me how you’ve been!’

‘Oh.’ said the husband looking in the other direction.

‘Oh?’

‘I’m not in the mood to talk about it.’ he replied ‘Everything is so complicated. We’re like waiting for Moriarty to make a move but he put his head in the sand so we are stocked with all this kids messing around with our lives.’

‘Kids? Messing around? How?’

‘They are writing all this fan-fiction stories about me and Sherlock, but please don’t ask me to tell you more about them.’

‘Oh you don’t have to.’ Marry brought up on her face a shining smile.

‘Wait… What?’

‘I mean you don’t have to tell me. I know everything about them.’ she pat his right arm few times with victory written all over her face.

‘You… know… everything.’

‘Yes. I raid some of them. Few of them are really disgusting.’ she continued to talk and John felt that she is having a lot of fun about this whole situation.

‘But some were pretty interesting. In fact, I even have my favorite!’

‘Oh, no you don’t.’

‘Yes, I do! It has 30 chapters but it is still ongoing. That person has such a great talent.’

‘In describing love scenes of me and Sherlock?’

‘Also.’ John wanted to say something, but Marry didn’t mind as she said:

‘You should read it. It’s worth it.’

‘Yeah? Really? What’s its title?’- asked John ironically.  
Mary sat straight, took a deep breath and the said exaggerating emotions:

‘It’s called “The mystery triangle”’

 

On the other side of the city, in a small, two rooms’ apartment, a computer screen was on. Letters were appearing on a blank page as fast as the rain drops fall on the ground during an English autumn. Fingers were tapping the keyboard rapidly, making all together a beautiful melody. Suddenly, it all stopped. Few clicks on the mouse and the 31st chapter have been posted on the internet. The author stretched her body, stood up and crossed the room towards a pet cage.

‘Smaug! I’ve finished!’ she said filled with happiness. The little, ginger guinea pig squeaked twice and then minded its own business. The young lady came to the door. She put her ear on it, trying to catch any noise coming from the corridor.  
Silence. Yet another night spent all alone in this small flat. Her important parents were having another busy night at job. She shrugged her arms and then went to lay on her bed. Before she fell asleep, she put on a cap and looked at the wall, to which she pinned few articles caught out from the newspaper.

‘Good night, Holmes. Goodnight, Watson.’- she whispered ‘Maybe tomorrow will meet?

She closed her eyes and after few minutes, started to snore.


End file.
